


A Reality that Almost Happened

by Callaeidae3



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [17]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Dubious Ethics, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e04 Hole in the Sky, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Heavy Angst, Hostage Situations, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Pidge | Katie Holt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Missions Gone Wrong, Restraints, Trauma, hoktril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 17:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19446001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callaeidae3/pseuds/Callaeidae3
Summary: BTHB: Hostage SituationAn au in which the trip to the alternate reality went wrong sooner, giving Hira time to use the captured Pidge, Lance and Hunk to force Allura to move the ship - and to force Keith to accept the hoktril.





	A Reality that Almost Happened

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by @justheretobreakthings

Right from the moment they’d set foot on this ship, Keith felt unsettled. From the moment this General Hira had called Allura ‘Empress’, even more so. The atmosphere in this ship is too clean, too passive and emotionless. Watching Hira explain how Allura as Empress conquered this reality’s version of the Galra Empire, her lips pulled tight in a frown and her eyes shadowed with disdain and…something else, something dark, Keith’s not sure he likes the idea of hanging around these people for too long.

It gets worse when Hira starts pulling Allura’s emotional strings, persuading her to aid this reality’s Altean Empire in its desire to spread stability and peace throughout all realities. The wary light in Allura’s eyes shifts then, and Keith doesn’t like how easy she lets go of caution.

Keith’s social worker often pulled these tactics. It’s what made him stop asking for help when things started getting bad and his foster families mistreated him. Whenever he’d move, whether that be because it was obvious he was being abused or the foster families simply didn’t like him, his social worker would try to convince him to give the new family a chance. She’d tell him he needn’t be so wary, that he could find a new father figure among this new family who would love him, that he’d have a mum and be able to find friends among his new foster siblings…

And he’d want to believe what she told him. He’d wanted to believe that he could have these things he wanted – _needed –_ but things were never as they seemed. Even the ‘good’ families turned out to be not so good after all, as the ones who never hurt him would hurt him through ignorance and indifference instead.

Perhaps it’s not the same as how Hira’s talking to Allura right now, but she is nonetheless laying out all of Allura’s most heartfelt desires – including the desire the avenge her father and payback the Galra – and telling her that she can have all this if only she helps Hira and all the Alteans in this reality. But Hira isn’t someone they want to be making deals with. If only he could figure out a way to subtly tell her that without accidentally drawing attention to his Galra lineage…

Keith doesn’t get a chance. Hira’s in the middle of trying to convince a still uncertain Allura to help them move the ship when things turn sour.

The doors to the bridge open and six soldiers march in with Pidge, Lance and Hunk in front of them. Their faces are a mix of fear, anger and nervousness as they’re brought forward, their hands cuffed behind their backs.

Allura starts forward. “What is going on here?”

“Empress,” one of the soldiers says. “The Guns of Gamara have infiltrated this ship. These people were working with them.”

Keith summons his bayard and grips the handle tight. “Let them go!”

But Hira ignores him. “And what of the Guns of Gamara?”

“Two individuals. They eluded us but we are presently searching for them.”

_So they haven’t caught Sven and Slav yet,_ Keith thinks. _Let’s hope it stays that way._

“Good,” Hira says cooly. “Now, what am I to do you with you, Paladins of Voltron?”

“How about you leave us alone?” Pidge mutters.

Keith lets out a growl but before he can say or do anything, Allura approaches Hira with anger and caution returned to her eyes. “They are our friends,” she says. “You will let them go at once. That is an order!”

Hira hums. She regards Allura carefully for a moment longer and then her gaze flicks to Keith. “I think not. Seize him.”

The order Hira gives isn’t to Allura. Three of the soldiers holding Pidge, Lance and Hunk abruptly let go of their catch and make a beeline for Keith. Pidge’s eyes flash the moment she’s let go. She launches herself at one of the soldiers but it’s only to receive a baton to the head.

“Pidge!” Hunk cries out.

Keith drops further into a fighting stance. It’s purely defensive; he’s already lost the chance and advantage of striking first. The three soldiers surround him. They raise their batons, press a button on the shaft that extend them into staffs and tighten the circle.

Lance tugs himself out of the soldier’s grip and steps forward. The handcuffs power up and electrocute him. Hunk tries the same thing and manages to endure the electricity arching up his arms and down his spine a little longer –

All three of them are down. Pidge hasn’t moved or opened her eyes since getting hit.

The first soldier strikes. Keith blocks and parries, then sends them off with a kick. A staff rams him in the side, another in the neck, but he ducks and swipes his sword out in front him. He sees the other two soldiers approach Pidge where she’s lying on the ground and Keith slashes at the soldier in front of them in fury.

“Don’t touch her!” he yells, but he can’t stop them from doing so. The first soldier gets back up and brings a blaster out from the holster on his hip, and the other two are drawing back their staffs to take another blunt force stab at him like they’re playing a game of pool. He lashes out again, adrenaline pumping through his veins and his senses sharpened and –

_Wait. There’s three soldiers here. Two over there. But weren’t there six earlier?_

Arms loop over his head and bring a staff slamming into his neck. Keith chokes. He almost loses his footing but regains his balance at the last second.

Allura whips out her bayard. “This has gone too far, Hira.”

Pinned against the sixth soldier, Keith struggles. The soldier with the blaster shoots Keith’s wrist guard and he loses his grip on his bayard.

“I agree,” Hira says. “I thought your half-Galra here might be lacking in the Galra ways, considering how it doesn’t seem like he was raised by that side of his family. However, as I’m sure you also can clearly see, I was wrong to be so open-minded.”

Lance raises his head, one eyelid twitching. “What the quiznak is that supposed to mean?”

“It means chaos has erupted here. How do you expect to spread peace across the universe if you cannot control the chaos in your midst?”

Keith tries to kick the soldier holding him in the shin but his attempt only has the soldier cutting off his airway for a few seconds instead. The urge to keep struggling rises again when the soldier by Pidge grabs her by the back of her armour and drags her into a sitting position. That urge turns to cold seeping into his blood and nausea when he pulls out his blaster and presses it to her temple, right over where she was struck with the staff.

“If you regard me as your Empress,” Allura murmurs, her brow furrowed in a V, “then you will release every Paladin at once or else – ”

Hira snickers. “I don’t believe you are in any position to be giving orders, _Princess._ Even you know that. You’ve stayed your hand with your weapon.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“We were in the middle of making one, but even then you seemed unwilling. So I have a better idea for a deal.” She turns to Keith. “Since you’re the leader of Voltron, the decision to accept or reject will be yours to make.”

Keith grits his teeth. “What do you want?”

“Here’s the deal,” Hira says. “If you convince your _Princess_ to use her power to move this ship through the wormhole, your Blue Paladin and your Yellow Paladin will be released.”

_Technically Lance is the Red Paladin now,_ Keith things. He doesn’t say anything though, because he can hear the unspoken ‘but’ at the end Hira’s sentence and knows there’s a catch to Hira’s terms.

Sure enough, there is. “In addition, you will allow yourself to be escorted to our treatment room for us to heal you. We will release your Green Paladin then. Your Princess may go as she chooses and so may you after your treatment is finished.”

Keith narrows his eyes. In his gut he knows that something’s wrong with that wording. He’s hardly injured at all and these people are the ones who tried to inflict hurt upon him to begin with. It’s too suspiscious.

“No!” Hunk shouts. “You’re not doing that to Keith!”

Hira glances at him, one eyebrow raised. Her mouth quirks in amusement. “Oh? You’ve been informed of the hoktril, I see.”

“Sapping people of their free will is just _wrong!_ You call them non-cogs, but I call them slaves!”

“If you wish to establish peace in the universe then there are some sacrifices you are going to have to make. Such is the nature of war.”

Lance grunts. “Is losing your sanity a good sacrifice?”

“So,” Hira says. “Black Paladin. What is your choice?”

Keith makes eye contact with everyone on his team. Allura’s eyes are steely and heated from the betrayal, Hunk’s are blown wide with fear as he shakes his head and Lance is trying hard to mask the horror in his expression as he sees the decision Keith’s leaning towards.

But it’s Pidge who decides for him. She’s only just beginning to stir, groaning and screwing her face up in pain and light sensitivity. A concussion isn’t reason enough to give Hira what she wants, but the fate Pidge will have if Hira gives the command for the soldier to pull his finger a little tighter on the trigger…

Keith swallows. “Fine. As long as you let them go, I’ll do it.”

“No, Keith! Did you not see what they did to Moxilous?” Hunk protests.

Hira watches Keith’s face like a crow.

Keith drops his hands from where he’s been gripping the staff, trying to alleviate the pressure on his throat. He raises them up in front of him, palms up in surrender. He locks eyes with Allura. “’llura…you’ll do as she asked?”

Allura opens her mouth to argue, then closes it and steadies herself with a shaky breath. She evaluates the situation at hand before them, then looks back at Keith. _I don’t like this,_ she silently says. _There has to be another way._

But there isn’t. Not if they want at least some of them to get out of here alive. If Keith doesn’t accept Hira’s terms, everyone will be killed. Not just Pidge – though she’ll be the first – but Hunk and Lance as well, then Keith and Allura…

“Okay,” Allura says, all authority gone from her voice. “I will.”

“You accept?” Hira asks Keith.

Keith nods. The staff holds fast beneath his chin. “I accept.”

Hira’s eyes gleam. “I appreciate your cooperation.” She flicks her hand and the soldier holding Pidge releases her. Pidge slumps to the ground, blinking her eyes open in confusion. “Black Paladin, you will be escorted to the treatment room immediately. All soldiers present in this room will take you. I expect you will not put up any resistance?”

Keith being Keith, the moment he’s out of this room and out of this hostage situation, his first instinct will be to fight his way free. But if it’s going to be six-on-one, then winning that fight might be harder than he’d like. Of course he’ll still try, but…

As defeated a look as he can muster, Keith nods again.

Satisfied enough, Hira turns away and lets the soldiers take him.

Keith’s wrists are snatched out of the air and wrenched behind his back. Cuffs fix them in place, and the soldier pinning him to themselves lifts the staff away from Keith’s neck and steps away. Keith feels the staff on his lower back a moment later. The three soldiers standing in his field of vision stay as they are, keeping Keith where he is as the remaining two soldiers take positions on either side of him. They each grab one of Keith’s arms in a death grip.

There’s no time for goodbyes. Not verbal ones, at least. Hira’s in middle of explaining again to Allura what she needs to do to move the ship, and Lance and Hunk are torn between trying to wrestle themselves out of their handcuffs, check on Pidge and try to persuade Keith with horrified looks as he’s led off.

There’s too little time to think of what to say to them either. There’s only one thing he can think of saying, and it’s first to Shiro and then to all of team Voltron: _I’m sorry, I failed you so badly._

* * *

Once on the other side of the bridge doors, Keith attempts to free himself. _Like hell I’m going quietly!_

It’s a waste of energy. He can’t twist himself free. He can’t try to drag his feet and stall – when he does that, he just gets jabbed in the spine. He can’t try to wrestle himself free by surging forward – when he does that, he just gets jabbed gut. He tries letting himself drop to the ground but all that achieves is having all his weight placed on his arms, tearing a couple of muscles in his shoulders and chest and leaving him unable to breathe properly.

The soldiers holding him just drag him to his feet and continue on as usual.

The ‘treatment room’ they arrive at ten minutes of struggling later is no medbay. Keith had expected as much. It’s an operation room, but not one used for the usual surgical purposes. The operating table looks like a cross between a massage table-bed and a Galra Empire interrogation (torture) table. When Keith sees the numerous straps lining the sides of it, he renews his struggles in earnest.

_I never should have agreed to this!_

A punch to the gut. He bows forward with a gasp.

_If Shiro were here –_

Keith digs his heels into the ground.

_\- he’d have been able to get us out of that situation._

A whack to the back of his knees. His knees buckle.

_No, he’d have prevented this situation from happening in the first place._

He’s dragged forward, wrestled forward until his knees collide with the edge of the table. A hand on the back of his neck and he’s shoved down onto it. The soldiers move around the table, grabbing at Keith’s armour and manoeuvring him so that’s lying fully on it, instead of just his upper half. He keeps trying to resist, but it’s futile, and before long his face is forced into the hole at the end of the table and kept there by the soldier with the fist in his hair.

The soldiers pin him there. Two hold his legs, two hold his arms and one more his head. The soldier not holding him gets to work on the restraints.

He’s surprised they haven’t forcibly stripped him of his armour, but then he remembers that non-cog they saw before and realises they don’t need to – all they need is physical access to his head. His bayard’s all the way back on the bridge anyways.

The only defence he has left on him is his blade, but it’s out of reach. He’d slipped it into his boot before they boarded the ship, just in case the group were searched for weapons and they found it nestled in between his shoulder blades and the back of his chest plate where he usually keeps it.

_Too late for regrets now_ , he thinks bitterly.

Straps are pulled over each of his ankles. They’re secured to the table by some kind of strong magnet, the tightness adjusted automatically as the magnets sink into the table and pull each end of the straps downwards. It means there’s no chance of knots loosening or being able to wriggle free. It means once each restraint is finished securing him, he’s officially screwed.

_No,_ he realises, _I was screwed from the moment I hesitated to attack when they brought Pidge, Lance and Hunk in on the bridge._

Straps over the backs of his knees. _It’s my fault I ended up like this._

Straps over the backs of his thighs. _It’s my fault. ‘You reap what you sow’, right?_

His torso is secured by a thick, weighted band. It’s hard to breathe.

_They always said I needed discipline. My foster families. My teachers._

The cuffs holding his wrists together behind his back release. It’s no use trying to get free. He’s learned that already. His arms are pulled down by his sides, his wrists pulled as far down towards his feet as they will go whilst the soldiers make sure his head stays with his face in the hole in the table.

Bands wrap around his wrists. _I’m sorry, Shiro._

Another set just above his elbows. This procedure must take a long time. Do they have to steadily drain him of his free will or something? Is this why they can’t just knock him out instead of going to such lengths to tie him down on the table?

One more weighted band is stretched across his shoulders. _It would be better to lose consciousness by dying than lose my consciousness to this._

He thinks that’s it for the restrains, which is equally a relief as it is terrifying, but then his head’s pinned down by another. The soldier holding his head down releases his grip on his hair as it’s fixed in place, and it’s only then Keith realises that they soldiers holding him down haven’t been holding him down for a while now. They haven’t needed to.

“Don’t worry,” says the soldier nearest to his head. “At the end of all this, you won’t remember a thing.”

That…is not a comfort.

“The procedure will be a lot less painful for you if you do not resist it. Simply accept your fate and the peace that it will bring to you in the long run.”

If Keith were still the Red Paladin, Red would’ve busted the ship open to rescue him by now. But he’s Black’s Paladin now, and he’s seen before when Shiro’s been in danger, Black isn’t exactly active in protecting her Paladins.

If Keith were still Red Paladin – heck, if he even had any of Red’s powers for himself – he’d have a chance of escaping –

A loud boom erupts somewhere down the ship. Keith feels the vibrations of the explosion through the table.

One of the soldiers grumbles. “Stupid Guns of Gamara.”

“We should help the others stop them,” says another.

“Good idea. This one isn’t going anywhere. Let’s go.”

And just like that, Keith’s left alone. Again, both relieving and terrifying. He’s free to struggle all he wants but it’s pointless. He can’t even move. The most he can is in wriggling his fingers, toes and making whatever facial expressions he wants to.

With the soldiers gone, the room is silent. There’s not even the hum of machinery. He can hear his own heartbeat, beating too fast to be good, and the sounds of commotion own the hall, but that’s about it. The sounds of his breathing too, shaky, shallow…scared…

The doors open again. He swallows. _They sure caught Sven and Slav quickly,_ he thinks, but then the footsteps start running quietly towards him and he knows it can’t be one of the soldiers. This person’s moving too stealthily.

A Slovakian accent murmurs in his ear. “I will not let you share their fate.”

Keith feels himself trembling as the restrains release and withdraw with a mechanical beep. Strong hands roll him onto his side, lift him up and pull them him against the person they belong to. It feels so much like Shiro holding him, Keith can’t help the tears that slip from his eyes.

“S-sven,” he whispers. “Wh-what’s going on?”

Sven tilts his head to the side, listening. He doesn’t reply for a moment, and Keith realises he must be listening to Slav over the comms. “Yeah, just got him,” he says. “I’ll take him there now. Make sure the others are on their way out. We don’t have long.” Helping Keith off the table, Sven turns to him and says, “We set off a bomb. It’s not much of a distraction, but it’ll hold Hira and her crew off for long enough to escape.”

Though he’s shaking with adrenaline and fear, Keith follows Sven to the door. “Where are the others?”

They look both ways and start sprinting down the hallway. Keith struggles to breathe, but muscle memory keeps his legs moving and the panic at bay. The soldiers who took him come racing back to the room and Keith’s stomach lurches. One of them shouts, pointing at Keith, and then Sven makes a hard left and Keith darts after him, out of the soldiers’ sight.

“Your friends are headed back to their Lions,” Sven answers. “You need to meet them there.”

They’re running too fast and don’t have enough time for Keith to get a proper update on the situation, but he gets the basics of what needs to be done here. So long as the others are on the move, then Pidge is either moving on her own or being carried and Allura, Lance and Hunk able to move on their own as well. They might have all sustained further injuries, but right now getting back to their Lions and _getting the hell out of this place,_ out of this ship, is the number one concern.

“What ‘bout you?” Keith asks as they round another corner. “You and Slav?”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”

Keith has no choice but to trust him.

“The lady you call Princess has your sword,” Sven says. “Make sure she never becomes an Empress, eh?”

Keith grunts. _If Allura isn’t telling herself that right now, then there’s a problem._

They come to an emergency door in the ship. With a skip of a heartbeat Keith realises he doesn’t have his helmet on him, but that problem is soon fixed when Sven removes his own helmet and places it over Keith’s head.

Keith stares at him, eyes wide. “Don’t you need this?”

“Not as much as you,” Sven remarks.

“But you – ”

“Get to your Lion first. You have a spare in the cockpit, yeah?”

“Yeah…?”

“Sweet. If you have time to, drop my helmet off to Slav – he’ll be hanging off the starboard side of the ship somewhere planting another explosive. I’ll make my way over to him.”

Keith frowns as Sven begins working the handle of the emergency door. “You’ll get sucked out into space with me. You’ll die without a helmet.”

Sven pauses at the last latch to tap the side of collar of his suit. A mask much like the ones built into the Blade of Marmora suits expands over his head and face. “See? I’ll be fine.”

They don’t have any more time. Footsteps grow closer behind them. Keith’s gut wrenches at the thought of being grabbed again, but instead of that happening Sven finishes opening the door and it’s space that grabs him instead.

Keith’s mind reels. Slav mutters away about percentages and probability in the comms, but Keith’s not listening. He flips over and over, the great endless expanse of space looming all around him, Commodore Trailing’s ship and the wormhole the only points of reference. But then Black pulls up in front him and he’s swallowed.

He lands hard. His body’s fizzing with remnant fear, adrenaline and nausea. He feels weak as he pulls himself to his feet, thinking about Sven, thinking about what almost happened, thinking about…

Barely making it to the cockpit, Keith’s collapses and doubles over. He just manages to get Sven’s helmet off his head before he begins retching.

_Sven…I need to…helmet…back…_

Black’s on autopilot and so is he. Somehow he manages to stagger to his feet and avoid the mess on the floor. Keith stumbles into the cabinets on the left side of the cockpit and begins searching for the spare helmet. Thankfully he finds it in the first cabinet he looks in. He’s not sure how long he’s going to be able to keep functioning for before the shaking of his limbs stops him from being able to walk.

Everything’s a blur. He puts on his own helmet and then makes his way back out to the edge of Black’s bottom jaw with Sven’s. Black flies him around to where Sven’s just made it to Slav’s side. When they get close enough, Keith jetpacks out from Black and delivers Sven his helmet back.

He looks Sven direct in the eye. “Thank you,” he whispers. His voice is barely audible to himself, but Sven is able to make out the words by lip-reading.

Sven offers him a grim smile, helmet tucked under his arm. “Go.”

Keith nods. He has to trust Sven and Slav will be able to get away on their own. If they’re anything like the Shiro and Slav in Keith’s own reality though, then it’s highly likely they will.

According to Slav, that likelihood is positively 98.9284%.

(Rounded to four decimal places because he doesn’t have time to finish the calculation before the bomb they’re placing is set and starting its countdown).

* * *

* * *

Keith doesn’t know how long he sits in Black, curled up in the pilot’s chair. He’s afraid to move. He’s too shaken to move. It’s safe in here and he’s not sure if he’s recovered enough to be able to say he’s okay in front of the others.

Through the comms on the way back he learned that Pidge is quite out of it with her concussion, but she’s mostly just dazed. Hunk and Lance’s muscles are a little tingly still from the electrocution. Allura got in a fight with Hira but won easily enough after what happened to the team. She’s a little bruised and shaken from how easily she trusted Hira, but otherwise is fine.

When they ask after Keith, Keith has no answer for them. Literally no answer. His end of the line is so silent they ask him if he’s still there, and when he doesn’t reply to that they start worrying he’s passed out. He reassures them he’s not and that’s all they get from him.

_You should go to them,_ Black seems to say.

Keith hugs his knees tighter. His throat constricts as a fresh wave of hot tears spill down his face. _I can’t let them see me like this._

_Why not?_

_I’m a failure as a leader as it is. I’m not strong like Shiro is._

Black almost seems to laugh. An image of Shiro sitting in the pilot’s seat as Keith is now, breaking down in the middle of the night and in the privacy of Black’s cockpit enters Keith’s mind. Keith stills, wondering if it’s true or not. Black confirms it is true.

_But Shiro has PTSD. I don’t._

_Don’t invalidate yourself. The hurts you experience are still hurts._

_But they expect me to be stronger than this. They need a strong leader, and I’m not like that._

_Even though you wish to be strong in their eyes, there will always be times when the weight of leadership becomes overwhelming. You are allowed to feel overwhelmed. You are allowed to process that through crying._

Somehow that just makes the tears come faster.

_And you don’t need to show the others,_ Black says. _These emotions are private, personal._ She sends Keith the image of Shiro breaking down again. _It is better to let it out than keep it in. It’ll take longer to process if you internalise it._

Keith sniffs. He tries to take a deep breath. _Why’s it sound like you’re speaking from experience?_

Black only hums.

Eventually the tears ease, his cheeks dry and his shaking subsides. Keith’s not sure how much time has passed. His legs are stiff as he unfolds them and stands, so he knows it’s been a fair while at least. He takes another few minutes to mentally steady himself.

_You can do it,_ Black urges.

Keith nods. _You’re starting to sound like Shiro,_ he thinks, amused.

Thankfully no one’s waiting for him in the hangar when he emerges from Black. Keith lets out a sigh of relief. He’s nervous as he walks through the halls, expecting to run into someone and dreading having to face them. But he makes it back to his room unhindered, and again he lets out a relieved sigh.

He stays in the shower far longer than he usually would. Turns the water hotter than he usually would. When he gets out, he neglects to dry his hair and doesn’t bother putting on his belt. He doesn’t even put on his jacket. He intends to on his way out – after all, he does need to go see the rest of the team and debrief and apologise for the mess he’s made and the hurt he’s caused – but first…

Keith doesn’t expect to sleep, but he does. He curls up in bed, huddled under the blanket with his knife clutched to his chest and his wet hair soaking into the pillow.

* * *

He nightmares. Someone shakes him out of it before it gets too far. Hunk helps him sit up, readjusts the blanket around him and pries the knife from his hands.

“Hey,” Hunk murmurs, and he presses a bowl of hot soup into his hands. “You should eat. Get your energy back.”

Hunk pats him kindly on the shoulder and quietly leaves. Keith blinks after him, bewildered.

The soup is good. It’s warming, and his stomach is grateful for it.

* * *

When Keith comes out of his room in the morning, the empty bowl of soup in his hands, he finds Pidge drinking coffee at the kitchen counter arguing with Lance about whether or not Pidge should be drinking it so soon after her release from the healing pod.

They both turn to stare carefully at Keith as he enters. Keith averts his eyes and carries the bowl over to the sink.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance says too cheerily.

Keith tries to answer him but the words don’t make it to vocalisation. The bowl slips out of his fingers and crashes to the floor. His shoulders slump as he stares at what could now be used to make a mosaic on the floor.

Coran comes in at that moment, takes in the somewhat awkward concerned silence and skips over the cupboard. He pulls out a dustpan and begins sweeping up the pieces of broken bowl.

“Wait,” Keith whispers. “I can…”

“Don’t worry, Keith!” Coran says. “I’ve got this!”

Keith blinks. Coran usually calls him Number Four.

Pidge finishes her coffee with a satisfied ‘ah’ and sets the cup down. She gets out of her seat to pull Keith away from the broken bowl. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. Hunk said to help yourself. There’s plenty to go around.”

Distantly, Keith feels himself nod. Mentally he says thank you, but he can’t get himself to actually say it.

With an understanding smile, Pidge simply gives him the thumbs up. Keith expects her to walk back to her seat then, but she doesn’t. Instead she wraps her arms around him and holds him close, gently.

The hug speaks for her. _Thanks for choosing to save my life back there, even if it basically nearly cost you yours. Thank you for being okay._

Keith numbly returns the hug. He’s not sure what it conveys.

* * *

Later that day, Keith’s sitting in the lounge fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket. He’d tried napping but memories of yesterday flooded his mind the moment he closes his eyes. It became suffocating, so he left to clear his mind.

He didn’t think Lance’s yabbering could ever be something he’d be grateful for.

It’s a good distraction. Lance knows it is too, because the look on his face as Keith sits opposite him vaguely listening and humming every now and then says that Lance is making an effort to offer Keith the distraction. It’s mindless talk, most of it, but it keeps his mind off recalling the sensation of being dragged down those halls and strapped to the table and unable to move…

Keith thanks him later, quietly. Lance just gives him a small, worried smile and leaves it at that.

* * *

He meets Allura on the bridge that night.

Their conversation is mostly a silent one. They’re not sure what exactly they should say to each other but sorry, and they both hold themselves accountable for what happened on the other side of that hole in the sky. They both challenge each other to stop blaming themselves for it.

Allura confesses that she’s been visiting her father a lot, even though the AI is no longer functional. It eases something Keith, and after that he allows himself to visit Black without so much shame.

Some days are harder than others. Some days they’re able to lie to themselves and say they’re over it already. But eventually the intensity of the hurt and trauma grows less intense, more bearable, less exhausting to process.

And they keep moving forward, through this war of tough choices and all the mistakes and triumphs it brings. That on it’s own is a triumph.

* * *

At the end of it all, they’re able to bring in an era of peace and stability to the universe that Hira never could have.


End file.
